Had my conversation last night with H not been followed up by yet another really bizarre dream, you probably wouldn't be here reading this now. But fate is a funny wench (assuming that you believe in her, that is) and so here we are.
Me typing. You reading.
The setting for this dream was a long stretch of road, like the kind you expect to find in the Midwest US -- flat and straight with corn fields to either side and a big red barn off in the distance. The sky was an odd shade of blue, and while I don't remember actually looking up in the dream, I know there were storm clouds gathering overhead. The sun illuminated us from behind so it wasn't truly dark, yet, but you knew it was coming.
I and my two companions rode bicycles down this long expanse of corn field-bisecting road. We flirted and joked with each other without a care in the world. Why? Because we were sexy vampires (though what we were doing outside during the day, I'm not really sure.) "How do you stay in such good shape?" the handsome blonde vampire to my right asked in a mock interpretation of one of our enamoured victims. "It's the iron," I told him.
We laughed.
We rode on until we reached the barn. There the road dead ended into a T intersection. There was another field on the far side of the perpendicular road there. Behind the fence around that field stood some of the strangest goats I had ever seen. Their coats matched the wood of the fence and by 'matched' I mean color and pattern. One of them was wearing a t-shirt. He stood up with his little hoofies on the top of the fence so we could read said shirt. It was printed with a written account of some past hero (or antihero perhaps) who had discovered his lady had been stolen away while he was abroad. The hero (antihero) returned home, slew the perpetrator and took back his lady. Hey look! It has a happy ending. Thanks, Mister Goat.
Fortunately the phone rang before we had a chance to eat the goats.
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